Does My Heart Count
by Aspen-SiredBySpike
Summary: What happened while Clary fell asleep before Magnus' party in another part of the institute? Jace and Isabelle get to talking. JaceClary one shot.


**A/N: My second Mortal Instruments Fic. This is a Jace/Clary ship and takes place while Clary is asleep before Magnus' party.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own City Of Bones or any of the characters.**

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KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Don't come in!" A voice called through the door.

Isabelle ignored the plea and pushed the door opened, strolling into the room to see Jace lounging on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He glanced up at the sound of the door shutting behind her, watching her ignore him completely as she walked over to his closet, and began rifling through the contents.

"You never listen do you?" Jace asked as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Come on Jace, we both know that if you didn't want any one to come in you would've locked the door." Isabelle stated as she tossed a red t-shirt on the floor.

"Maybe the lock was broken." He retaliated sarcastically.

"You could've fixed it."

"Admit is Isabelle, you were just hoping to walk in on me in a compromising position. Not that I would've minded…"

"Urgh! You're so full of yourself Jace Wayland!" She exclaimed as she tossed a black blazer down to join the t-shirt on the floor.

"I have to be. There's no one else to show the world the beauty that is bestowed upon specimens such as I."

"Specimen? What are you, a bug or something?"

"Hey, I've known a couple hot ladybugs in my time."

"Hence the word lady."

Jace rolled his eyes as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. His gaze immediately fell upon the amounting pile of clothes on his bedroom floor.

"Isabelle, what are you doing?"

"Hmm?" She pulled her head out of the closet, dropping a pair of black jeans before turning her attention to him.

"I said, 'what are you doing'…"

"I'm looking for something to wear to Magnus' party tonight. The High Warlock of Brooklyn deserves to see me looking my best." She responded idly as she went back to rifling through his things.

"And you're looking in my closet why?"

"Because Alec did the laundry and I'm missing half of my things."

"Then why don't you go bother him instead of me? Seriously, I'm pretty sure he'd be more likely to strut around in one of your little black numbers than me; although if I got a picture of him in one of those things, I'd have blackmail for life." Jace mused.

"I already checked. And as for the dress thing, he doesn't have the legs for one."

"You were looking at your brother's legs?" Jace snickered.

"No, but I have seen yours and you'd be more likely to pull off my clothes. Besides, I have a halter top that would go perfect with your complexion."

"What color?"

"Pink."

"Really? I always thought that black was my color, but hey, what do I know? I don't spend 20 hours of the day in front of a mirror."

"It takes a lot to look this good." Isabelle gestured at herself before walking over to the dresser on the far side of the room.

"Once again Isabelle, what are you doing now?" Jace sighed as he watched his bottles of cologne topple over on the dresser top.

"Since I can't find my clothes, I might as well look for my perfume."

"You think I stole your perfume." He stated blandly before flopping back own onto his bed and rolling over on his side, so he could watch Isabelle raid his room.

"No, I think it's Alec's fault if it is up here."

"He may be dim, but I doubt he'd try to put your perfume in the washing machine. Which brings me back to why you're in my room instead of his."

"And as I said before, I already checked his room."

"Did you even check your room yet? Or perhaps that mundane snuck in and stole your stuff. He's completely infatuated with you."

"Simon? I doubt it. He doesn't know up from down."

"So he's just another one of your play things?"

"Obviously. He's a mundane." Isabelle noted.

"Figures." Jace muttered, getting sick and tired of her games. Being a guy, he knew what it was like when a girl just fooled around, although, being Jace Wayland, it didn't happen that often to him. Generally, girl's were drooling all over him and throwing themselves at his feet. But on the rare occasion, it has happened. "You never change."

"What about you? You seem to go awfully soft when your around the red-head." Isabella said as she turned around to face Jace, resting for a moment against the dresser.

"Her name's Clary."

"Clary, then. So what's the deal with her? You go to practically mush when she's around."

"I do not."

"Yeah, you do."

"How do I go to mush?"

"I can't believe it! Jace, I've known you since you were ten; do you really think you can fool me?"

"I can try."

"Come on, you practically drool when she's in the same room as you, you try and act cool and collected but I can see that you are trying not to break. When you're with her, you actually seem kind of human."

"I knew you always thought I was some type of alien being or something. That's why you keep trying to get me to eat your cooking. You've probably poisoned it, attempting to vanquish me back to the hell or planet from which I was sent."

"Don't be ridiculous," Isabelle continued after rolling her eyes. "When I say that you're more human, I mean in the way that you actually seem to feel something for once. You don't isolate yourself in attempts to hide yourself from the world. You seem open, and free, and dare I say it, happy."

"Now you're talking ludicrous." Jace retaliated as he sat up, propping up his pillows so he could lean against them in a more comfortable position.

"Am I? Or have you truly fallen for the little mundane?"

"She's not a mundane. She's as much of a Nephilim as you and me."

"She sure doesn't act like it."

Jace didn't respond. He just watched as Isabelle turned back around and continued her massacre of his room. After emptying the first three drawers in the dresser, she was about to give up her search and go back to her own room to find an alternate outfit, but decided upon finishing up with the dresser first.

Noticing that Isabelle was placing her hand over the second to last drawer, Jace started in terror.

"Hey, get away from there!" Jace yelled as he jumped off the bed, and ran over to the far side of the room, placing himself between Isabelle and his dresser.

"Touchy." Isabelle said as she threw her hands up in surrender, but an evil smile was forming on her face. "What are you afraid of Jace? Got something to hide?"

"No." He retorted as he caught her wrist as she tried to swerve around him.

"Well, for an innocent guy you sure are jumpy."

"I'm not jumpy, I am just a little restless. I haven't gotten much sleep lately."

"What? Has the mundane been haunting your dreams? Or should I say you torrid fantasies?"

"Her name is not mundane, it is Clary! C-L-A-R-Y!"

"I'm not two, Jace, I know how to spell." Isabelle giggled as she tore free from his grip.

"Then would you just call her by her name?"

"I knew you liked her!"

"I don't like her!"

"No, you're right, you love her!"

"What? I do not! Wait, why am I even discussing this matter with you? You're nothing but a woman who toys around with the hearts of men who are weaker than you so you can feel dominant! Well guess what Isabelle, even though you may be able to shrug off every single solitary person you meet, mundane or not, doesn't mean the rest of us can!"

Isabelle, taking advantage of his ranting, eyes closed and his hands doing elaborate gestures in the air, moved around him, slowly bent down and placed her hand over the drawer handle. Inch by inch, she began pulling it open.

"We're not all heartless creatures like you!" Jace continued his ranting, oblivious that the person he was talking to had moved behind him, not paying an ounce of attention to a thing he was saying, "I have feelings! I have emotions! And most of all, I have a heart! And you know what Miss I-Will-Never-Be-In-A-Real-Relationship-Because-I-Care-More-About-Myself-Than-Any-Other-Living-Thing? I feel love! And not just for myself like you do; I am capable of loving another!

Isabelle gasped as she stared, wide eyed, down at the contents of the drawer.

"I love Clary Fra-"

"Your hair is like the flames wrapping around a dried out branch in autumn. Green is the eyes that stare me down like a leprechaun." Isabelle cut him off. "Jace, what on Raziel's name is this?" She laughed as she stood up.

Jace, noticing that her voice was coming from behind him instead of in front of him where he had thought she was standing, opened his eyes and turned around to find her standing, one hand on her hip, the other waving about a piece of paper.

"What are you doing with that? I told you to stay out of that drawer!" Jace cried as he dove for the paper, only to have Isabelle pull it out of reach at the last second.

"Come on, Jace, tell me what it is." She giggled as she rushed around him and began jumping on his bed.

"It's nothing."

"Nothing? It doesn't look like nothing."

"Trust me, it's nothing." Jace muttered, trying to play it cool. He sat down on the edge of his bed in defeat.

"Really now. It sounds to me like you're describing the mundane."

"It's Clary!" Jace screamed as he flopped backwards, knocking Isabelle over, causing he to land a few feet away from him.

"Uh-huh. So what, is this some type of love declaration or something?" She questioned as she pulled herself back up into a sitting position, glancing over the paper once more before tossing it aside.

Jace stared at her incredulously.

"Have you not been listening to a word I was saying?"

"Not really, no."

"Grrr! You are the most irritating being on this planet, Lightwood!"

"I could say the same for you, Wayland. But right now I'm only interested in what that stupid rhyme was about."

"It was a poem for Clary, alright? Hodge reminded me that her birthday is coming up soon so I decided to write her something special." Jace sighed.

"You call that thing a poem? Jace, if you really want to give her something special, give her something to make her feel a sense of belonging. Raziel knows that she probably feels so out of touch with us all here at the Institute. She doesn't need some stupid poem to make her feel at home; what she really needs is a friend."

Isabelle got up and slowly walked towards the door. She stopped and turned, however, once her hand touched the knob. "I'm going to get ready for the party now. You should soon too." She got no response. "Jace?"

"Yeah?" He said quietly from his place on the bed.

"Just remember. Something to make her feel like she belongs. Something special." With those final words, Jace heard the door squeak open and click shut behind her, the soft padding of her footsteps fading away down the corridor.

"Something special to make her feel a sense of belonging." Jace murmured to himself as he folded his arms behind his head, staring up at the cherubs on the ceiling. "Something unique that only I can give her."

After a moment of silence and slight hesitation, Jace unfolded his arms and rested his right hand over the left side of his chest.

"Does my heart count?"


End file.
